Chapter 114 Stand-In

Chapter 114: The Stand-in

Lin Juangui slept fitfully; after falling ill, he ended up sleeping even less than usual.

Bluntly put, the medicine Shen Yun had sent could only alleviate his suffering—not cure his strange illness. Lin Juangui accepted reality, viewing himself simply as expendable cannon fodder who had completed his mission and was about to log off.

He knew Huo Zeshen found it agonizingly difficult to accept. Often, when facing Lin Juangui, Huo Zeshen forced a smile—the sorrow in his eyes impossible to conceal.

Lin Juangui sighed softly. Huo Zeshen noticed the movement instantly, his gaze snapping back down to meet Lin Juangui’s eyes.

“Did I wake you?” Huo Zeshen’s voice was slightly hoarse. He loosened his arms, preparing to check on Lin Juangui’s condition.

Lin Juangui shook his head gently, his voice soft and faintly husky with sleep. “No, I woke up on my own.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Huo Zeshen’s slightly reddened eyes. Though the tear tracks had dried, the subtle signs remained visible up close. “You haven’t slept at all?”

Huo Zeshen helped Lin Juangui lean back against the soft cushions. He tried to deflect the question, asking stiffly instead, “Are you thirsty? I’ll get you some water.”

Lin Juangui nodded—not deliberately making things difficult for Huo Zeshen.

In the dim light, Huo Zeshen’s back as he walked toward the kitchen appeared exceptionally tall and broad—yet also carried an unnatural rigidity, as if he were straining to maintain normalcy.

Lin Juangui watched silently, but his eyelashes trembled involuntarily.

Soon, Huo Zeshen returned with a cup of water at just the right temperature, carefully bringing it to Lin Juangui’s lips.

Lin Juangui drank slowly, sipping from Huo Zeshen’s hand. The warm water moistened his dry throat and washed away the lingering drowsiness from his recent sleep.

“If you can’t sleep, shall we talk? Let’s talk about those things—the ones you’ve always kept hidden in your heart but never knew how to tell me. Often, I feel like I only understand you superficially—I’ve never truly grasped your innermost thoughts. Actually, that’s a kind of neglect toward you too. I’m sorry.”

Since arriving in this world, Lin Juangui had always played the role of someone seemingly omnipotent before Huo Zeshen—but their earlier interactions hadn’t been like this.

Huo Zeshen had his own family, friends, and career; his life had been rich and vibrant. He’d even enthusiastically dragged Lin Juangui—who usually stayed home after work—out to explore and experience life.

To him, Lin Juangui was indeed profoundly important—but Lin Juangui wasn’t the entirety of his life. Lin Juangui had never worried about losing himself in Huo Zeshen.

But the current Huo Zeshen deeply troubled Lin Juangui. He didn’t want Huo Zeshen, after his passing, to lose all will to live—or even follow him in death. That’s why he’d always hoped Huo Zeshen would confront his responsibilities, using them to forge a reason for Huo Zeshen to keep living.

Yet he had drastically underestimated his own weight in Huo Zeshen’s heart.

Huo Zeshen lacked Lin Juangui’s lofty perspective. He was an ordinary man struggling in the mundane world—unable to escape the word “love,” let alone face life and death with equanimity.

In truth, compared to before, Huo Zeshen had already improved significantly—it wasn’t nearly as unbearable to accept now. As for his tears, they stemmed more from hatred of his own powerlessness—his inability to keep Lin Juangui longer.

Even though what he was doing now aligned precisely with what Lin Juangui hoped for—and what Huo Zeshen himself had longed to achieve for years—he still couldn’t shake off that profound anguish.

Huo Zeshen knew this made him seem weak—but he truly couldn’t pretend to be strong before Lin Juangui. He was simply sad. What else could he do?

“You have never let me down. On the contrary, it is I who have disappointed you.”

Huo Zeshen was a man without a fixed personality. The weakness and vulnerability of his childhood, the coldness and perversity that emerged after growing up and entering the military department—all were roles demanded by his environments. Playing them wasn’t overly taxing, yet neither did they bring him joy.

Lin Juangui had once said that his state before him was the most genuine. Huo Zeshen had listened, gradually lowered his guard, accepted Lin Juangui’s theory—and put it into practice.

Huo Zeshen did feel far more relaxed. But the hardest thing in life is grasping a sliver of hope—only to watch helplessly as it is extinguished.

Lin Juangui was Huo Zeshen’s long-held obsession and goal. What he desired most was a future with Lin Juangui—yet Lin Juangui was about to leave.

This psychological chasm was difficult for Huo Zeshen to accept immediately. Even if he could act like a normal person daily—handling official duties as usual—he couldn’t truly behave as if nothing were wrong.

Lin Juangui couldn’t imagine it either.

The days without Huo Zeshen had been unbearable. Had Huo Zeshen’s body not remained unfound back then, Lin Juangui would undoubtedly have followed him in death—there was no question about it.

“I know you hope Huo Zeshen develops a sense of self. But Huo Zeshen was born with nothing—everything he has was given by you. You can’t ask him to discuss ‘self’ by separating from you. He can’t do it.”

How could Huo Zeshen not understand Lin Juangui’s worries? Yet precisely because he understood Lin Juangui, Huo Zeshen felt such pain.

Lin Juangui was someone who always spoke of benefits and needs—using them as a disguise to conceal the kindness and compassion hidden in the shadows.

Huo Zeshen hadn’t understood this behavior at first. He’d thought Lin Juangui was simply too kind. But later, through interaction, he realized Lin Juangui acted this way simply because he could—so he did—without expecting repayment.

To Huo Zeshen, this was utterly inconceivable.

Huo Zeshen was a man who had nothing—so he couldn’t give others anything. Instead, he frantically demanded things from this world: power, wealth, even love—he pursued them all recklessly.

What he possessed was too few, too scarce—the things he could grasp counted on one hand. So he had to seize every opportunity to climb.

Huo Zeshen’s life was misaligned. He experienced many things at a young age that ordinary people couldn’t bear. That he’d come this far was proof enough of his mental fortitude. Emotional hardships and blows were devastating disasters for him—disasters he couldn’t avoid, only redouble his efforts to vent onto busy official duties, using them to release his emotions.

Lin Juangui gently embraced Huo Zeshen. Huo Zeshen took a long, deep breath—and finally poured out the words pent up in his heart for years.

“You don’t actually belong to this world. It’s perfectly normal to leave after accomplishing what you came to do. Many years ago, I noticed that when you looked at me, your gaze was always distant—as if seeing another person through me. It was like that before the memory loss, and after it too. I don’t care about any of that. As long as I receive your concern, you can think of me as whatever you like. When I met Mu Zhang before, he told me these things too. Do you know how I felt at that time?”

Lin Juangui shook his head. He actually felt a bit guilty—even though he knew the Huo Zeshen he knew was one and the same person, he still felt deeply sorry for causing Huo Zeshen to misunderstand.

“I felt he was so pitiful. I can be your stand-in—but he can’t.”

Huo Zeshen was well aware that the person uttering such words before Mu Zhang was equally pitiful. But he needed to win against Mu Zhang just once—to finally clear away the frustration and gloom accumulated over the years.

But how long could Huo Zeshen feel triumphant? How long could he keep deceiving himself?

Previously, Huo Zeshen hadn’t voiced these thoughts before Lin Juangui because he didn’t want Lin Juangui to see him as petty. With Mu Zhang already serving as a cautionary tale, pushing Lin Juangui too hard would only make him abandon the relationship entirely.

Huo Zeshen didn’t want to be abandoned—yet he could never escape this fate.

After hearing Huo Zeshen’s words, Lin Juangui’s emotions churned. He wanted to tell Huo Zeshen everything. But just as he opened his mouth, a chaotic interface flooded his vision—filled with red exclamation marks.

The System’s voice rang in his head like a warning bell: “This is part of his growth. Telling him everything now is no different from pulling up seedlings to help them grow. You’ve already broken the rules by telling him you’ll meet again.”

Had Huo Zeshen—not yet transcending his current stage as an ordinary human—possessed any real perspective, the System would certainly impose stricter restrictions.

But who had made Huo Zeshen the apple of Lin Juangui’s eye? The System could turn a blind eye—it wouldn’t matter much. After all, anyone would grow weary after experiencing the cycle of reincarnation for too long. Still, the bottom line couldn’t be crossed.

Lin Juangui frowned and fell silent for a moment. Suppressing his anger toward the System, he spoke calmly to Huo Zeshen: “You have always been you. The person I see is you—the person I love is you. I’m very glad you were willing to tell me your feelings. Otherwise, I truly wouldn’t have known how to clear up this misunderstanding with you. Believe me, okay? You have always been in my heart—and only you.”

Huo Zeshen stared blankly at Lin Juangui.

He didn’t ask if it was true. He had always believed whatever Lin Juangui said. Hearing these words, it seemed he no longer needed to deceive himself.

“You… love me.” Huo Zeshen was still slowly processing Lin Juangui’s confession.

Lin Juangui nodded firmly. “I love you, Huo Zeshen. I love you very much.”

Huo Zeshen’s eyes reddened again—but this time, he didn’t cry.

Huo Zeshen kissed Lin Juangui's lips carefully and with restraint, responding to his feelings, "I love you too."

Lin Juangui's words finally seemed to pull Huo Zeshen out of that vortex of fear.

Since Lin Juangui wasn't using him as a substitute, had said he had always been looking at him, and had spoken of a future for the two of them,

Huo Zeshen could basically confirm that, like Mu Zhang, he had met Lin Juangui a very, very long time ago.

Lin Juangui had let go of his entanglement with Mu Zhang and chosen to accompany Huo Zeshen in the future. Much of the sorrow in Huo Zeshen's heart faded, leaving only endless relief.

He was just relieved that Lin Juangui had chosen him.

Seeing the slight relaxation in Huo Zeshen's constant frown, Lin Juangui also felt a lot better.

He truly hadn't expected Huo Zeshen to be so perceptive, able to sense a hint of something else from his gaze.

But Huo Zeshen had always been like this—meticulous and considerate, gentle by nature. This was part of his character, and Lin Juangui couldn't restrict him with his own preconceived notions.

Freed from his worries, Huo Zeshen finally felt a bit drowsy. Lin Juangui's words had brought him a long-lost sense of happiness. He slightly narrowed his eyes, on the edge of sleep.

Lin Juangui patted Huo Zeshen's shoulder, urging him to sleep early. "Take good care of yourself, or it'll worry me."

"Mhm, okay."

Huo Zeshen held Lin Juangui in his arms. Lin Juangui gently stroked his chest, as if to soothe him to sleep.

Before long, Lin Juangui also fell asleep.

Huo Zeshen's ironclad routine still didn't allow him to sleep for too long. After washing up and changing into his suit, Huo Zeshen had breakfast with Lin Juangui.

He was swamped with official duties first thing in the morning. After they finished tasting today's small cake, Huo Zeshen asked Lin Juangui, "What are your thoughts on Mu Zhang's punishment?"

After last night's heartfelt exchange, Huo Zeshen could now mention Mu Zhang's name naturally.

Mu Zhang's case had to be concluded; it couldn't be left hanging indefinitely, as that would undermine public trust in the judicial system.

Lin Juangui's stance remained consistent. "The punishment should fit the crime. General Mu's desire to protect the family's reputation out of old sentiments is his business. What my pheromones do is my own affair. Neither of these should be a reason to interfere with the law."

"But these things weighed in the balance could indeed save his life. Is that what you want?"

Lin Juangui didn't deny it. "Things between him and I haven't reached a life-or-death stage. The same goes for you. As for why I want him to live... there are many reasons. I don't want to keep you in the dark. At the very least, after I'm gone, the Tian Guang Society will become a significant obstacle for you. Only Mu Zhang can handle these matters properly."

After Lin Juangui's passing, the Tian Guang Society, with its superior equipment and combat capabilities far exceeding the military's, would become a leaderless fleet. How to deal with it would pose a tremendous challenge for Huo Zeshen.

Lin Juangui hoped to resolve these issues as peacefully as possible, minimizing casualties. That was the purpose of keeping Mu Zhang alive.

Huo Zeshen fully understood Lin Juangui's good intentions. He had previously mistaken it for lingering feelings for Mu Zhang.

Thinking about it carefully, how could that be? Lin Juangui had spoken such decisive words to Mu Zhang. Ultimately, it was Huo Zeshen's deep-seated insecurity in this relationship.

The Federation needed impartial justice, especially when settling old accounts and establishing a new order. Mu Zhang could not escape punishment simply because of his elders' or partner's contributions to the Federation.

Some time later.

In the courtroom of the Federation's Supreme Court, the high dome created an atmosphere so solemn it felt nearly frozen.

The public trial of Mu Zhang attracted the attention of the entire Federation, not only because the case involved the sensitive taboo of Zerg genetic experiments but also due to the defendant's special status. How to weigh his merits and faults became a subject of curiosity for many.

In the front row of the public gallery, Lin Juangui sat quietly, his complexion appearing somewhat translucent under the courtroom's cold white lights.

He didn't converse with anyone, nor did he glance around much. His gaze rested calmly on the familiar yet now a stranger in the defendant's dock.

Mu Zhang wore prison garb, his back ramrod straight, his face expressionless. Throughout the trial, aside from necessary statements, he remained largely silent. Only occasionally would his eyes sweep over the gallery. When they briefly met Lin Juangui's gaze, an extremely complex emotion would flash before turning into deeper melancholy.

The evidence was conclusive, the debate intense.

Lin Juangui listened quietly, watching as Zheng Shi argued for a lighter sentence for Mu Zhang by discussing Lin Juangui's contributions to the Federation and how his forebears had given their lives for it, among other points.

The entire courtroom first fell into dead silence, then erupted in suppressed murmurs and discussions.

Fifteen years.

In an interstellar era with extended lifespans, this wasn't an unimaginably long sentence. But for someone like Mu Zhang, who had once been at the center of power and wealth, what it meant was clear to everyone.

In the gallery, Mu Jie closed his eyes, his emotions unreadable. This outcome wasn't unacceptable; being alive was better than anything.

Lin Juangui's reaction was so calm it bordered on abrupt. He showed neither relief nor regret. The moment the judge finished speaking, he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

After the verdict was read, bailiffs stepped forward to escort Mu Zhang away. Before being led off, Mu Zhang looked back one last time, his gaze fixed directly on Lin Juangui.

Lin Juangui met his look. Mu Zhang gave a faint smile, as if saying: Don't worry, I will live well.

Once Mu Zhang's figure had completely disappeared, Lin Juangui slowly stood up and walked alone towards the passage at the edge of the gallery.

The light outside the courtroom was rather harsh. Standing on the steps, Lin Juangui raised a hand to push his glasses up.

The wind brushed his cheeks, bringing a slight chill.

Behind him, the solemn doors of the Federation Supreme Court slowly closed, sealing away all guilt and the past into another world.

Lin Juangui breathed out softly, the breath turning into a wisp of white mist in the cool air before quickly vanishing.

The first two months of Huo Zeshen's tenure as Federation President were marked by efficiency and confrontation.

Building on the transparent disclosure of the Liang family's asset conversion fund, Huo Zeshen pushed for legislation requiring the Federation's annual budget and detailed breakdowns of major project funding related to military industry and infrastructure to be integrated into a unified, queryable system. Data would be updated every 24 hours, and any citizen could view fund flows after identity verification.

Although this move sparked backlash from the bureaucratic system, Huo Zeshen's public approval ratings soared again, with many calling him the first ray of light illuminating the darkness.

Thanks to the scientific research fund established with income from the Liang family's patents, the first "low-cost planetary atmospheric filtration membrane" developed by a team of miners' children from a fringe star system passed inspection. Its efficiency reached 85% of mainstream products on the market, at only 30% of the cost.

Huo Zeshen personally attended the launch event and awarded the first batch of orders to the community factory where the team was based.

This action encouraged grassroots scientific enthusiasm and shook the traditional clans' monopoly on high-tech industries.

Simultaneously, Huo Zeshen initiated a Constitutional Reform Committee, inviting scholars, lawyers, and citizen representatives to systematically revise outdated, vague clauses in the Federation Constitution that were easily exploited by the aristocratic families. The focus was on clarifying checks and balances, the boundaries of citizens' rights, and authority rules during extraordinary times.

The Federation's ability to return to peace after so many chaotic periods in history owed much to the clarity of its laws and the fairness of their enforcers.

This was the Federation's bottom line, an untouchable line of defense.

Huo Zeshen's reforms threatened immense interests. Although he was adept at recognizing talent and had many willing to serve him, actively advancing various affairs, the aristocratic families' attempts to win him over through certain gray profit channels failed. After also gaining no advantage in the court of public opinion, their attitude towards Huo Zeshen turned completely hostile.

These groups could not accept a president who was uncontrollable and intent on fundamentally weakening their privileges.

Those undercurrents of unrest eventually erupted into war.

Conflict suddenly broke out in the asteroid belt at the border between the Federation and unaffiliated forces. Several groups of well-equipped star pirates with complex backgrounds attacked a Federation resource survey station. Their tactical coordination and firepower far exceeded that of ordinary bandits.

The encrypted communications intercepted by intelligence agencies, while unable to pinpoint specific families, couldn't hide the truth revealed by the flow of funds and weapon origins.

This was a probe, a blatant open gambit.

If the Federation's response was weak, those families could seize the opportunity to challenge Huo Zeshen's competence as a ruler.

If a large-scale military deployment was launched, it would play right into their plan of luring the tiger away from the mountain. With the President leading the expedition and the rear left vulnerable, it would be the perfect chance for them to stir up political turmoil.

A heavy atmosphere hung over the military conference.

"The combat zone is strategically sensitive. The attackers clearly intend to provoke and test our reaction speed," Zhai Yanhe said gravely. "We must deliver a swift and forceful response. Otherwise, previously suppressed forces will grow restless and follow suit. Once the Federation is plunged into prolonged warfare, it will severely hinder the rollout of your directives."

"I'll go myself," Huo Zeshen declared without hesitation, his voice resolute.

As a Federation general and the current supreme ruler, both publicly and privately, it was his duty.

A slight stir rippled through the conference room, followed by deeper concern.

The President leaving the capital carried extremely high risks.

But Huo Zeshen's decisions, once made, were unchangeable. He was the Federation's strongest combatant now, and no one understood better than him how to swiftly and decisively end a war.

Huo Zeshen's gaze swept over those present. The murmurs gradually died down. No one stepped forward to oppose the plan; it was clear everyone understood Huo Zeshen was the best choice.

"The rear needs someone absolutely reliable to hold the fort. Government affairs can proceed according to established policies by the administrative team. However, I still need a pair of eyes, someone to watch over things so I can campaign with no worries about the rear."

Huo Zeshen didn't specify, but the core members present understood implicitly.

The person for this role couldn't be a conventional bureaucrat or military officer. It required someone who knew Huo Zeshen intimately, possessed extraordinary skill and courage, and whose stance was absolutely unwavering.

Once the meeting was adjourned, Huo Zeshen went directly to Lin Juangui's residence.

Lin Juangui was still taking a slow stroll in the courtyard. The Colorful Cat followed closely beside him, rubbing against his legs every few steps.

Seeing Huo Zeshen arrive hurriedly before nightfall, still carrying the stern aura from the military conference, Lin Juangui seemed to understand.

"In such a hurry. Where are you off to?" Lin Juangui stopped walking, his tone calm.

Huo Zeshen walked up to him, not hiding the truth. "There's a battle to fight that will be very beneficial for the future. I must go."

To put it bluntly, if those powerful clans hadn't acted impulsively like this, but instead bided their time, continuing to discreetly seek benefits for themselves as before, Huo Zeshen might not have been able to resolve it so cleanly.

After this war, Huo Zeshen would have just cause. Dealing with those remnants of the old forces would be child's play.

Lin Juangui stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Huo Zeshen's waist, a smile on his face. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I was thinking... could you help keep an eye on the Federation's situation for me?"

Huo Zeshen's wording was careful, measured perfectly.

He didn't want to trouble Lin Juangui, to impose on him, nor did he want Lin Juangui to think he relied on him for everything, like a child who never grew up.

But at this moment, Huo Zeshen truly needed Lin Juangui's help.

Lin Juangui agreed readily. "Sure. Can I do anything else? Like issue some policies in your name? Let me have a little fun too."

Huo Zeshen couldn't help but chuckle. He knew Lin Juangui was just teasing. In reality, no one understood boundaries better than Lin Juangui.

"Okay, anything is fine."

Huo Zeshen had long ago shared his authority with Lin Juangui. Lin Juangui could use his permissions to do anything.

An outsider would see this as a tremendous risk, but Huo Zeshen knew that no matter what, Lin Juangui would never harm him.

They held each other for a while longer. Huo Zeshen had to mobilize the troops and depart immediately. He reluctantly caressed Lin Juangui's face, leaving a gentle kiss. "I'll be back soon. You take care."

Lin Juangui also kissed Huo Zeshen's lips. "I know."

The news of Huo Zeshen's expedition quickly spread throughout the Federation. Everyone awaited his triumphant return and wished him a safe journey.

Huo Zeshen finally used the Nemesis that Lin Juangui had gifted him.

The report where Liang Xiancheng extracted Huo Zeshen's psychic energy and converted it into life force via the mech was retrieved by Huo Zeshen and completely destroyed. The Ultimate didn't escape unscathed either.

These matters were taboos for the Federation, harmful to others and of no benefit to oneself. Huo Zeshen did not advocate such methods, nor would he seek revenge by making the world taste the suffering he had endured.

For his first battle as Federation President, Huo Zeshen would not be careless.

The special operations fleet tore through the thin dust clouds of the asteroid belt like a quenched blade, thrusting straight into the heart of the conflict.

Huo Zeshen did not remain on the command bridge of the flagship. Instead, he went to the launch bay.

The Nemesis transformed into a bolt of lightning, leading the charge out of the mothership, plunging into the enemy formation.

The battle showed a crushing dominance from the very start.

The Nemesis's speed far exceeded that of conventional mechs. It weaved through dense barrages and mobile minefields, its trajectory elusive like a phantom. Wherever it passed, enemies erupted into bursts of fiery debris.

"Enemy main fleet beginning to retreat! Appears to be moving towards the Shattered Dam Graveyard!" a report came through the comms channel.

The Shattered Dam Graveyard was a hazardous zone formed from the explosion of an ancient planet, filled with high-density debris and anomalous gravitational fields, perfect for ambushes.

Advisors recommended cautious pursuit or sending scout units ahead to reconnoiter.

Huo Zeshen looked at the star map, at the "panicked" retreat trajectory of the enemy, his eyes cold.

He knew it might be a trap. But the enemy had invested in provocation on such a scale. If they weren't met with a thunderous blow, the border would never know peace.

"I will lead the First Assault Team into the Shattered Dam Graveyard. Subsequent echelons maintain distance, ready to provide support at any time," Huo Zeshen issued the order, his voice transmitted through the comms channel, steady and resolute.

But as they ventured deeper, the environment grew increasingly hostile. Anomalous gravitational fields intermittently disrupted sensors, and communications became sporadic.

Just as they passed through a narrow passage formed by massive wreckage, the situation changed abruptly!

The threat wasn't from the fleeing enemy ahead, but from within those seemingly harmless giant debris fragments they had just passed! Perfectly camouflaged launch ports suddenly opened, and hundreds of artillery barrages erupted from all directions at nearly point-blank range!

This wasn't a hasty ambush, but a meticulously calculated, patiently awaited killing blow!

The enemy feigned a rout, even sacrificing some of their own ships, all to lure them into this close-range saturation attack death trap.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Huo Zeshen barked the order. Simultaneously, the Nemesis executed an almost impossible sharp turn, energy shields at full power.

But it was too close, the firepower too concentrated.

Shells struck the shields, erupting in blinding flashes. Strong electromagnetic compatibility pulses caused the Nemesis's sensor systems and some external modules to instantly overload, screens flooding with swathes of error codes.

A heavily armed assault mech, lying in wait, lunged from the shadows of the wreckage! It had discarded all ranged weapons, crashing towards the Nemesis at a suicidal speed, its entire body flickering with unstable high-energy reactions.

"Commander! It's a core breach!" The wingman's cry was drowned out by the roar of the explosion.

Huo Zeshen's pupils contracted sharply as he shunted all of Nemesis's remaining power to emergency evasion and shield reinforcement. The two mechs collided violently!

A deafening blast and blinding light consumed everything.

The violent impact triggered a shriek of alarms inside Nemesis's cockpit, with structural damage reports flooding the screens.

Huo Zeshen was slammed upward then down; even with the shock absorption system, his internal organs seemed displaced.

More terrifyingly, under the collision and the intense energy shockwave from the breach, the neural link experienced unprecedented violent fluctuations and backlash.

The boundary between reality and illusion shattered.

The comm channel dissolved into static and frantic calls—

"...Sir! Please respond! Huo Zeshen!! Please respond!!"